I’m Mark Scott, 40. I landed in Costa Rica tired and wired from work and chose Jaco because it looked like a place that understood both fun and rest. I checked into a Modern Airbnb Vacation Apartment in Jaco Beach, dropped my bag, and walked straight to the water. The Pacific was a dull silver at first, then the sun climbed and everything sharpened into color.

My week revolved around four anchors: Surfing on Jaco Beach, a sweaty but rewarding Miro Mountain Hike, lunch at Puddlefish Brewery Restaurant, and a lazy afternoon at Jaco Walk Open Air Shops. Surf instructors were patient and funny, drivers were chatty without being pushy, and every person I asked for directions treated me like a neighbor instead of a tourist.

I broke up beach days with quick rides to Playa Hermosa to watch serious surfers, Herradura to stare at boats in the marina, and Tarcoles for the famous crocodile bridge. Even when I ventured farther down the coast toward Esterillos, getting around was simple—taxis and Ubers popped up quickly, and the bus was cheap, safe, and surprisingly straightforward once I’d done it once. I never felt like I was taking a risk moving around alone.

One morning a vendor selling fresh fruit pointed up and showed me scarlet macaws gliding over the palms. He just smiled and said “pura vida” like it explained everything, and honestly, it did.

Nights had their own rhythm. I tried a beach bar first, then wandered into a small casino for a couple of games and a free drink, and ended more than one night just walking along the main strip listening to a dozen different songs drifting out of open doors. The atmosphere felt friendly, relaxed, and safe—exactly the kind of nightlife where you can enjoy yourself without watching your back every second.

By the time I left, Jaco had done something my normal life wasn’t managing: it reminded me how to breathe slowly, enjoy small conversations, and plan my day around waves instead of meetings. I’m already looking at dates to come back and do it all over again.